


Warmth in Winter

by Aysu



Series: EBF Collection [5]
Category: Epic Battle Fantasy (Matt Roszak Video Games)
Genre: Anna is a good friend, Anna uses a mix of modern and magical home commodities, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Lance alludes to rotten parent, Lance needs help and he's getting it, Mild Language, Pre-Relationship, Sarah is a good friend, but Lance has robots and radios?, i don't actually like coffee but lots of people do, it's just every ten winters, questionable science and engineering and medicine, ten-year-snow does not last ten years, what is the level of technological development in the EBF universe?, who knows - Freeform, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aysu/pseuds/Aysu
Summary: Lance rooms with Anna for the winter in a family friendly sort of way.
Relationships: Anna/Lance (Epic Battle Fantasy)
Series: EBF Collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015827
Kudos: 12





	Warmth in Winter

**Author's Note:**

> This still needs a bit more work, but I want people to see it.

"Lance, you came to me for advice and help, and this is me, giving it to you," the strange woman pointed out, sharp and exasperated. 

Natalie and Matt cautiously peered around the corner to see their friend with his hands shoved in his pockets, and an uncomfortable scowl twisting his lips. He glared down at the small bottle in the stranger's hands like it were a rat rather than a simple container. Finally, however, he stiffly withdrew one hand from his pocket to reach for the bottle, only for the woman to close her fingers around it. 

"You need to promise me you'll follow the directions I gave you," the woman insisted, tone still sharp, but with an undertone of concern. When Lance merely grunted, her eyes flashed. "There's no point in giving these over if you're not going to take them properly—they can even be dangerous if you take them wrong. I hope you of all people don’t need me to lecture you on drugs and the human body." 

"Twice a day, no sooner than twelve hours apart. If I miss a dose, I can’t double up on the next one and I may see a lapse in effect. They might make me feel good, but taking more than prescribed can cause permanent, irreversible damage to my liver and brain. If I do overdose, you'll be sure to come piss on my corpse or my grave, whichever you find first," Lance recited drolly. He arched a brow before asking, "Did I miss anything?" 

The woman finally turned over the bottle with a twitch to her lips. "No, that about sums it up. I’ll see you in a week?" 

"...At the usual time and place," Lance mumbled, eyes darting to the side. "I- Thank you for this, Amber. I really appreciate it." 

The woman darted forwards to give him a crushing embrace. "No,  thank you for being brave enough to come to me for help. We'll get you sorted out, Lance, I promise. It might take some time, but it'll be worth it." 

"And you won’t-" 

"I won’t breathe a word to anyone without your express permission," Amber promised seriously. She pulled back and reached up to rest a hand on his shoulder. "If things get that bad again,  promise you'll call me. I don’t care what time it is, alright? I know you don't want to worry your friends about this, but you have me in your corner, too." 

Lance swallowed twice before nodding. "I promise that I'll call you before I do anything stupid." 

"Good! Now, go give your excuses, then go home and get some sleep. Don’t forget your pills! And eat something healthy before you turn in! Coffee and energy drinks don’t count as a meal!" 

Lance rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, mother, and I’ll be sure to brush my teeth and wash my face before bed. See you in a week." 

The gunner turned away, slipping the small bottle into his pocket, and strode away down the street, unaware of the two who had watched the entire exchange. 

For long while after he'd left, Matt and Natalie leaned against the wall, both frowning with suspicion and worry for their friend. 

"Lance isn’t, y'know, addicted to... drugs, is he?" Matt finally asked uncertainly. 

"No, I didn't get that from the conversation," Natalie hummed thoughtfully. "That Amber woman was talking as if Lance is really sick. He... has been really tired recently; I’m not the only one who noticed that, right?" 

"But then why wouldn’t he just come to you?" Matt wondered, frustrated. He stood purposefully off the wall and said, "I say we ask him." 

"Matt, wait," Natalie warned, quickly snagging his arm. "Lance didn’t tell us anything was wrong, and he clearly didn’t want us to overhear his conversation here. If we confront him and we can’t convince him to trust us—which he rightfully shouldn’t given we were spying on him—then he may not reach out again to anyone. We should be thankful he sought help at all." 

"But what if it’s serious?" Matt asked desperately. "What if he's really sick and your magic could save him, and we did nothing because he was too chicken to ask? He could die!" 

Natalie bit the inside of her lip before looking away. "Then... Then that would be his choice, Matt. As much as you or I might wish otherwise, we have no say in what Lance does with his life; we're lucky that he trusts and likes us as much as he does. We have to trust that if things really are that bad and this Amber can't work it out, then he or she will reach out to us." 

"But..." Matt protested weakly, fingers curling into fists. 

"He's getting regular help, and from what we saw and heard, Amber is both capable of, and willing to providing that. I don’t know who she is, but she seems to care about him a lot. And maybe whatever he has is something magic can’t cure—it wouldn’t be unheard of—in which case I wouldn’t be much help anyway. The most we can do is remind him that he's one of our best friends, and we want to be able to help with whatever he might need, whenever he might need it." 

Matt blinked back a few tears, feeling helpless. Ultimately, he reluctantly nodded and bowed his head. "Alright, we won’t confront him. Come on, Anna will be wondering where we all got kidnapped to before much longer." 

The pair trailed their way back to the inn, staring at their feet with their minds still lingering in that narrow alley. They didn’t look up until they were in the bar, and Anna cheerfully called their names. 

"Hey, Lance wanted me to pass along the heads up that he's taking a couple months off from the team to work on a project he's thought of," she informed them brightly with a smile. Her smile faltered when she took in their stricken expressions. "Is something wrong? You both look like someone died." 

Matt opened his mouth before shutting it again and looking away. Natalie was the one to respond. 

"Nothing we can do anything about. I’m sorry we missed Lance. Did he say which factory he'll be staying at?" 

Anna hesitated, not believing Natalie's assurance, and her suspicion showed in her voice. "No... he didn’t. When has he ever done that? For that matter, when have you ever admitted to missing him when he's not around?" 

"I don’t," Natalie protested loudly, trying to inject some of her usual indignation into her words. Her act faltered under Anna's disbelief. "We just... heard some people talking and it got us thinking is all. Where do you want to go next?" 

Anna's worry increased. "I’m going back to Greenwood, remember? To help bring in the fall harvest, with plans to weather winter there, and that we'd regroup in the spring? We talked about that this morning." 

"Ah, right, sorry," Natalie agreed sheepishly. "I must be more tired than I thought. Have a safe trip home, okay? I promise to keep Matt out of trouble." 

"...How much trouble can even Matt get into at the southern springs? Unless there's been a change of plans for you guys?" Anna asked suspiciously. Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. "Natz, you’re a terrible liar, and Matt still looks like Lance shot NoLegs and skinned him. What the hell happened, and why won’t you tell me? You two aren’t planning a crazy excursion into the wilderness during the ten year winter, right?" 

"It’s not our business to share," Matt finally stated flatly. "Natalie and I are still going to the southern springs for the winter. We're sorry we missed seeing Lance off, and we hope Greenwood has a good harvest. See you in the spring." 

Anna's expression became unreadable, and her eyes frosty. "Fine, don’t tell me. Whatever. Have fun," she muttered, standing up from the table and stalking for the door, shouldering between the pair. 

The remaining two sank to sit simultaneously. 

"Well, that could have gone better," Natalie muttered sarcastically. "Think she'll remember this by the time the snows melt?" 

"Knowing Anna, she'll bring it up as an arguing point until the day we die," Matt snorted. He stayed slumped there for a few moments longer before heaving a sigh and standing back up. "Come on, let's go get some rooms and try to get some sleep." 

OOOOOO

Anna couldn’t get her friends' weird behaviors out of her head, even two months later. She'd long since accepted that despite being close to all of them, she wasn’t entitled to any of their secrets, and if both Matt and Natalie had decided they couldn’t share, there was likely a good reason for it. Endlessly combing over their words in the weeks since had uncovered a few potential ideas, however. Whatever they had overheard, it had to be related to Lance. Natalie had clearly been worried about him, and both she and Matt had twitched when she'd informed them of the gunner's plans to split early. If what they had overheard had been from or about Lance, then it made sense that they didn’t want to share. Lance was intensely private, and his trust was a hard won gift; if she had overheard something personal about him, then she likely wouldn’t share it either, no matter what it had been. 

But that conclusion only made her worry about Lance. It was true that in the last couple of months fighting on the team, he'd withdrawn a lot. His sleep had been disturbed, his eating reduced, and his general irritability and jumpiness had shot through the roof. He'd played it all off as a new idea coming to him and absorbing his attention, but after seeing Matt and Natalie's expressions, Anna had to wonder if there was something more going on. Was Lance planning on retiring from the team? Perhaps some relative had contacted him about a death in the family—not that he'd ever mentioned his family before, but he had to have come from somewhere. Or maybe he was seriously ill? Matt and Natalie had looked resigned and upset, which would be the correct expressions if they'd overheard that Lance was secretly dying on them. 

Yet as much as that possibility fit, Anna wasn’t too sure it was correct. If they'd overheard Lance was in trouble, then they would have set off immediately to confront him. That meant that Lance couldn’t be in that much trouble, right? 

Anna sipped pensively at a mug of hot chocolate and stared out at the swirling white beyond her window. Greenwood was into the second day of one of the blizzards that swept the continent every decade. She sincerely hoped Matt and Natalie had indeed followed through on their plans to shelter at the southern hot springs—no human could survive such extreme conditions for long, and there was no telling how long a blizzard could last, or when the next would begin. She was thankful for the thick walls, warm fire, heavy blankets, and stockpile of food in her small home. 

Her mind slid back to Lance and her brow furrowed. He had to have a comfortable home somewhere, right? He wasn’t trying to weather the weather at one of his drafty factories, was he? He was too smart for that, she was sure, and yet... 

Anna stood off her small sofa, abandoning her cocoon of blankets and the cheery warmth of the fireplace to clamber down the ladder to her cellar where she stored all of her things. 

The cellar had quite a bit more floor space than the first floor where she typically lived, boasting several rooms of various kinds. Mostly, it was filled with dried and preserved foodstuffs in all kinds of storages, but she had dedicated one room to being a small armory after her quest to retrieve the jewel had landed her with a multitude of fine bows and armors. Another room was filled with pieces of furniture and home supplies that she didn’t really need, but couldn’t bear to part with, that she had inherited from her parents along with the house. A third room was a trophy room of sorts, filled with odd treasures, artifacts, and baubles that she'd collected over the years. The final room, and the one she was headed for, was a kind of miscellaneous storage room, lined with shelves and chests stacked and filled haphazardly with random items she rarely used, but may someday need. 

After much sneezing from dust, cursing from pricking herself, shuffling of mountains of crap, and shivering—she really should have put on her house shoes before coming down into the chilly basement—she made a triumphant noise and leaned back on her heels before a wooden trunk she'd pulled down from a top shelf. In her hands sat a dusty, slightly grimy, and very heavy device, about the size of an apple crate, that Lance had once gifted to her. 

" It's a long range communication device—kinda like a very advanced walkie ," she remembered him explaining. " You actually stay in one place when you’re not traipsing around on Matt's latest treasure or monster hunt, so I can set my frequencies to always reach you if we need you. I’m still designing one that can be used for mobile communication, but it's a... really slow work in progress ." 

Though he hadn’t explained directly, she knew he'd given it to her because he trusted her to respond and know what to do if the team ever got into a mess they couldn’t get out of on their own. It could also, he'd promised, reach any of his factories, which had far larger and more sophisticated means to relay a distress signal to him if something happened in Greenwood that was beyond her control or ability. It had been the kind of cautious and brilliant forethought she'd come to expect from him, and it was born of a quietly concerned mind. 

In reality, it had only come in handy for its intended purpose once when the other three had gotten themselves trapped in a canyon. The connection and voice quality had been so bad that it had taken nearly four hours just for her to get and decipher their plight from between the crackles and whines, and another six to get their location and for them to get her reply. Lance had told her to scrap the damn thing after she'd successfully extracted them, promising a better model in the near future. 

For one reason or another, she hadn’t, just as he hadn’t ever managed to give her a better machine. She hauled the device out of the now-more-cluttered storeroom and up the steep steps back to the far warmer sitting room. Once there, she plunked the device down on the low side table and settled the headpiece over her left ear with the mic curling to before her mouth. It would work, she was certain—the mechanics for its ability to hold and regain charge were, she was positive, as brilliant as their creator, even if the explanation had been far beyond her understanding. Yet she hesitated with one finger pressed gently against the metal switch to turn it on. 

This thing was for emergencies, which she wasn’t certain her paranoia counted as. Maybe Lance had already dismantled the device on his end. Maybe he would be mad at her for pestering him with ridiculous concerns. Maybe it was so old it would blow up in her face and she'd have to spend the rest of the winter nursing burned skin at a friend's house after her own burned down from the resulting blast. She should probably just spare herself the embarrassment and put it back... 

Matt and Natalie's concerned and hopeless expressions floated through her mind, followed closely by the unhealthy shadows that had grown deeper and deeper under Lance's eyes. Anna flicked the switch and pressed down the button for her voice to go through. 

"Uh, Lance? You there? It’s me, Anna. Can you hear me?" 

She released the button and waited with her heart in her throat for what felt like an eternity. Outside, the wind shrieked on a particularly strong gale, and a branch hit her wall with a thud. She wondered how long she should wait before trying again, and how many tries she should make before accepting that the device was likely obsolete. It was just as she was about to try for a second time when the machine crackled, and she jumped in place. 

"...Anna? What happened? Are you okay?" 

Anna blew out a shaky sigh even as a broad smile grew on her face at the familiar voice—and much, much clearer than the last time she'd used this thing. "I’m alright, and Greenwood is fine," she sheepishly promised. 

Lance's response came much faster, "Then what the hell are you contacting me for? For that matter, why the hell do you still have that piece of junk? I thought you’d have loved to scrap it." He sounded exasperated, but much less tense than his first words. 

Anna curled her feet up under her and rested her free ear on the arm of her sofa with a quiet laugh. "Honestly, I don’t remember why I kept it. It's working a lot better this time, though, so maybe it still has a use." 

"Well, duh. It’s not relaying a signal across several thousand miles to and from an even less capable device stuck behind several miles of stone in a box canyon. I still can’t believe that shit worked back then..." The second part was more of a mutter to himself, but Anna's smile widened. He cleared his throat before asking again, "So what did you call me for if nothing's wrong?" 

Anna twirled the cable for the headset around one finger before admitting. "I’m not sure. Maybe... Maybe just to check that nothing was wrong with you. I’m probably going a bit stir crazy from being stuck inside." 

"...Are the storms that bad in the forest? I would have thought the trees would block some of the wind," Lance answered after a moment. 

It didn’t escape Anna’s notice that he'd avoided answering her question, and her chest clenched, though her voice remained light as she sighed, "You'd think, but no. Even on clear days, I don’t dare go further than the food court. The storms come out of nowhere and with no warning." She hesitated when Lance merely offered an agreeing hum, tinny across the machine. "I probably just psyched myself out from the way Matt and Natz were behaving when we split off, but... are you okay? Have you been sleeping any better?" 

"Matt and Natz were acting weird?" Lance asked suspiciously. 

Anna pinched the cable between white fingers at his continued dodges. "Yeah. They didn’t explicitly say they were worried about you, but given several weeks on end to do nothing but think gave me time to put two and two together." She waited a moment before adding quietly, "I’m worried about you, too. You... really didn’t look healthy the last time I saw you. Are you feeling any better?" 

"I’m feeling better," Lance finally admitted just as quietly. "Thanks for checking in, it means a lot." 

"I should have done it sooner," Anna murmured, upset with herself. "Maybe I could have helped." 

"I had excellent help, don’t worry," Lance quickly assured. He snorted a moment later before adding, "Actually, I do have a bit of a request." 

Anna sat straight with her feet on the floor, and her full attention fixed on his voice. "Anything." 

"Can I crash at your place for these last few weeks?" Lance asked sheepishly. She heard a few loud clangs from his end followed by a muffled curse before he came back more clearly. "My heater keeps giving up the ghost in the middle of the night. I can do patch jobs to get it working again in here for a few hours, but I can’t do the needed repairs on the outside unit while it’s so cold. I’d use a fire, but my place isn’t set up for that kind of heating, and I don’t really have the fuel to sustain it even if it was." 

"Is this your admission that my barbaric way of life might actually have some use?" Anna teased lightly. 

"It has a small niche where it can continue to exist," Lance begrudgingly agreed. "So is that a yes?" 

"Of course you can stay at my place, Lance. You should have called sooner," Anna chided gently. She eyed her window again, judging the storm before adding, "It looks like this latest blizzard has let up a bit. I'll string a line from my door to the warp point so you can find your way to my house if it picks up again. I’ll call you back as soon as it's ready, okay?" 

"Sounds great. Thanks, Anna, I... really, really appreciate it." 

Anna blinked at that, thinking he sounded way more grateful than the offer of a cot in her house should warrant, but let it go in favor of bidding him a hasty promise to call back soon. Within ten minutes, she was bundled up against the cold and carefully picking her way through the deep drifts piled high against the thick trunks of the trees. The wind was still strong, but no longer a driving blizzard force, and she quickly reached the warp point where she tied the second end to a knot on the stump. 

Mission accomplished, she scurried back to the warmth of her home where she shed her woolen coat, hat, scarf, and mittens, and kicked her boots off onto the shallow pan beside her door. Even just the short time spent in the cold had her shivering heavily, and she quickly tossed a few extra logs on the fire before wrapping a blanket back around her shoulders. The call confirming she was ready for Lance took barely ten seconds, and she spent the time waiting for him to come on setting on a new pan of milk for hot chocolate, and a kettle of water for her hot water bottles before retrieving some more blankets. She was sure Lance would appreciate the gifts when he arrived. The kettle had just begin to whistle, and two mugs were being kept warm by the fire when a frigid gust swept through the house followed by a slam of the door announcing Lance. 

"Sit down by the fire and help yourself to some blankets and one of those mugs, Lance, I'll be right in!" Anna called as she carefully poured the hot water into the bottle. "Do you want anything to eat?" 

"No, I ate shortly before you called," Lance replied. 

There were some quiet rustles from the other room followed by an appreciative noise that she likely wouldn’t have caught if she hadn’t just returned to the room with the bottle wrapped in a towel in her hands. Lance had tucked himself under three blankets on the couch with only his face and hands peeking out to drink his hot chocolate. His nose and cheeks were nearly as red as his eyes from the cold, and she saw that he'd carefully placed his discarded boots and jackets neatly beside her own. She could see him shivering still, but rolled her eyes playfully at the exaggerated groan he gave once she'd tucked the hot water bottle under the blankets by his feet. 

"That’s it, I may just love you," he joked, eyes narrowed in contentment as she settled down beside him and pulled a blanket around her own shoulders. 

"Well, I’m glad to see the weather hasn’t frozen your sense of humor," Anna laughed. She reached for her own drink and slurped at it before setting it aside again to smile at him. "It’s good to see you. Done anything interesting since we split up?" 

Lance hesitated, his fingers curling a little bit tighter around his mug in anticipation of the question he knew would come sooner or later. "I got a few blueprints finalized and the coding is coming along nicely for some upgrades to my satellite cannon," he finally replied after a long and awkward moment. 

Anna nodded and idly scooted to wedge herself comfortably in the corner of the sofa with her feet pulled up beside her. "That’s good. I remember you saying you were looking to shorten the cooldown time for it. Did you work that out, or were these different upgrades?" 

Lance eyed her suspiciously even as he said, "A bit of both. The cooldown time is still a work in progress, but I've drawn up a few more ideas to try. The cooler thing is that I think I’ve worked out how to change the mana wavelength to promote an ambient absorption field after the blast clears—it should give our individual mana a boost for our innate healing and for Natalie's healing magic." 

"I’m sure she’ll like that. We're always so tired after the fights that actually need the cannon that any pick-me-up is a blessing," Anna huffed with an approving nod while reaching for her chocolate again. "Would the mana field also be accessible to any potential surviving foes, though? Might be tricky if some super monster doesn't quite bite it and gets back enough energy for a second wind." 

Lance was now frowning at her. "That’s certainly a possibility, but working around that will take a lot of careful calculations that I don’t have readings for just yet. And why aren’t you asking what I know you want to ask?" 

Anna arched a brow at him from over the rim of her drink. She swallowed and mildly asked, "You mean about why you were feeling bad enough to worry Matt and Natz?" At Lance's slow nod, she shrugged. "I trust that when you say you’re doing better, you mean it, and I trust that you'll talk to me if you think I can help. Prying never works with you anyway, and I’m satisfied just knowing you're safe and healthy. Unless you want to talk about it?" 

"Not particularly, no. Not yet, anyway," Lance admitted through a sigh. 

"Then we don’t have to talk about it," Anna decided calmly. She drained her drink and turned so that she was fully facing Lance with her head resting against the back of her sofa. "So tell me about the other stuff you’ve been creating? Any spectacular mishaps?" 

Lance relaxed back in his own seat and smirked. "Of course that’s what you really want to hear about. You'll love this one: so there I was, welding torch in one hand, lug wrench in the other when all of a sudden..." 

Outside, the storm had once again increased in intensity, but inside was warm and filled with Anna's laughter and gentle teasing, and Lance's contented grumblings as he filled her in on the softer parts of what he'd been up to. The chattering, bantering, and gentle ribbing carried on through dinner preparations and over their meal of leftover venison stew, and well into the night after they’d made up a cot near the fire for Lance to sleep on. Anna fell asleep on the sofa mid conversation, blankets pulled over her head and up to her chin and a smile on her face. Lance didn’t even realize she'd fallen asleep as he drowsily and incoherently finished his last tale for the night before passing out equally happy, though not before quietly taking a small pill from his pocket and downing it with the remains of his glass of water from dinner. 

The next morning saw Anna groggily putting on a pot of coffee with blanket lines imprinted upon her face and her hair a tangled mess about her shoulders. She sleepily rubbed at her sore shoulder as she stared at the stove and tried to gather enough brain power before coffee to decide what even counted as food, whether she really needed it, and whether the spoon resting in the stew from the night before could count as stock. She'd stayed up way too late, and sleeping on the sofa was always a mistake, but as she sleepily poured a cup of coffee and gulped down a scalding, black, bitter mouthful, she couldn’t regret it. She had forgotten how fun talking to Lance could be when he wasn’t too uptight to relax—crude passes and jokes included, and there had been plenty of those last night. 

With her fresh coffee in a mug, now topped with thick cream and three spoons full of sugar, Anna settled at the table to sleepily stare out the window. It only took drowning a massive yawn with three more swallows before her mind seemed to click on and she studied her stove while planning breakfast. Typically, she would just mix a bowl of oatmeal with some canned fruit added, but the smell of coffee would attract Lance before too much longer, and she knew he hated the texture and taste of oatmeal. She had plenty of salted meat downstairs that would fry nicely, and she still had several eggs from her last run to the food court. 

"Omelettes and bacon it is," Anna hummed, downing the last of her coffee and pushing back to her feet. 

She passed Lance just beginning to stir, and paused to stoke the fire until new flames licked at fresh logs to chase away the morning chill. The gunner mumbled a groggy good morning to her as she found her feet, and she cheerfully directed him to the coffee pot before making her way downstairs. 

By the time she returned with a platter of thick shaved pork rounds, a slice of cheese, and an onion, Lance had settled at the table to nurse his drink and study the snowfall outside. The latest blizzard had blown out overnight, and what was falling now was little more than a flurry, leaving the muted colors of Greenwood covered in a thick blanket of snow on full display. 

"It’s pretty," Lance admitted while Anna set about preparing the ingredients for an omelette. "I’m surprised how far you can see with all the leaves gone; I think I can make out the altar from here." 

"Probably—it’s a straight shot from my house to the altar," Anna agreed. She poked her tongue out in concentration as she grated cheese for their breakfast. "Onions or no? I’m making omelettes." 

"Onion is good. Need any help?" 

"If you could go behind that little door there by the window and pull out four eggs—I should have six still—then start the bacon frying?" 

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Steadily, the delicious smell of frying pork filled the air, and Lance swallowed a sudden mouthful of drool. 

"You didn’t need to make breakfast. Not that I’m complaining," he commented. 

Anna snorted and spared him a wry smile as she turned the omelettes over. "No, but you would have complained if I’d given you oatmeal. Besides, I like to cook the first couple of meals for guests staying over. You’ll get to cook your own boring old toast tomorrow, don’t worry." 

Lance grinned back while transferring the bacon to two plates with a fork. "I’ll be sure to use up all the bread burning it." 

"You do that, and you’re making the next loaf," Anna warned. She moved the omelettes onto the plates and set hers on the table before going for more coffee. 

"You have to make your own bread? I thought Greenwood had a baker."" Lance asked in surprise. 

"We do," Anna agreed, stirring in more cream and sugar. She sat back down and used her fork to wedge off a piece of omelette before admitting, "Baking gives me something to do while being stuck inside all day, and Diana only really makes regular loaves during the ten year winter, since it can be hard to know who will want what before it spoils. It's too bad, because her manaberry pies are to die for; I could try for a million years and never figure out how she makes the crust so flaky." 

Lance made a noise of understanding, focused more on devouring his omelette with a gusto reserved for when Anna cooked. The ranger might not have the flair with- and knowledge of spices and seasonings that Natalie and Matt did, but she beat both of them out for knowing exactly how long to cook something, and she never skimped on the butter. It was the next best thing to a meal prepared by all of them, and he'd take her cooking over his bare-minimum survival sandwiches and canned food any day. 

"So besides baking, what do you do to keep entertained?" he asked. He eyed the bottom of his mug and then the last bit of coffee remaining in the pot, wondering if he could snatch it. 

Anna's lips twitched, knowing what he was thinking, and she waved him to the drink. "Nothing too exciting. I have a few books I picked up, and I do some whittling, but mostly I sit by the fire, nap, and pretend I’m going to do those armor and weapon repairs waiting in the basement; sometimes something in or on the house comes loose and I have to repair it. When the snow dies down, I go to the lumber yard for more wood, or the food court to pick up more eggs or milk." 

"Which you promptly use to ruin perfectly good coffee," Lance interjected, watching with distaste as Anna sipped at the pale, overly sweet mixture she'd concocted. "You have access to some of the best beans in the land, and you turn it into a coffee flavored milkshake." 

"I was wondering how long it'd be before you commented on that. You almost made it two hours his time. Good job, that’s a new record," Anna laughed. She nodded to him and asked, "Did you bring anything to do?" 

Lance shrugged unconcernedly. "That’s what you’re here for, right?" He lasted a full thirty seconds under Anna’s unamused glower before cracking. "I brought my drafting materials, my tablet for coding, and a few books. I promise I don’t plan to bother you the entire rest of winter." 

"Good, because the others wouldn’t find your body until spring." 

Lance smirked and crossed his arms while leaning his chair back on two legs. "You sound mighty confident that you could beat me." 

Anna had just gotten up to take their plates to her sink, and paused to cock her head at him with an amused half smile. A split second later, and Lance yelped in surprise when his chair crashed to the floor. The wood of Anna's house had come alive to entangle him in place with new shoots as strong as steel threads. Anna's lips spread in a toothy grin before she willed the house back to normal and offered him a hand. 

"You’re on my turf now, buddy, and I have all the home field advantages," she informed him when he grasped her hand to be pulled to his feet. 

"Terraforming the house is cheating," Lance petulantly muttered, rubbing a fresh bruise on his hip. He moved to dry the plates Anna washed and they worked in silence for several minutes before he begrudgingly admitted, "That's a really good defense. I didn’t even think about how we're actually inside a tree." 

Anna laughed softly while passing over the last plate, and moved to begin putting the dried dishes away. "It does make for an easy attack. I’ve never had to actually use it on anyone, of course, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared." 

"How far can you shape the wood?" 

"Hypothetically, I could reshape the entire tree, but it would leave me exhausted," Anna replied thoughtfully. "Realistically, without destroying the built in shelves, cabinetry, and walls, it depends on where I am in the house. Maybe three feet out in any direction from the surface of the tree? I mostly intend to use it to trap any intruders so I can regroup and deal with them properly." 

"It’s a brilliant use of the surroundings. I’ll have to look into what I might be able to do with my own places. My tech is good, but it isn’t infallible, after all." 

"Most of the floors and walls are metal, right? Maybe lightning magic through them? Though the electricity might screw with your computers," Anna suggested uncertainly. 

"Maybe with some added protections on the tech. It's a thought for another time," Lance decided. He stretched his arms over his head and followed Anna back to the sitting area. "What should we do now?" 

Anna padded to the window to peer out and hummed thoughtfully. "Storm's picking up again, but if it dies down later, then we can go pick up some more firewood and fresh groceries. I’m not stocked for two people eating." 

Behind her, Lance winced. He recovered his expression before Anna turned to face him with a speculative frown, unaware that she'd caught his reaction in the reflection. His eyes darted around before falling on the bulky communications device Anna had yet to put away. 

"Where were you keeping this, anyway? I don’t remember seeing it, and the storage up here is too small for it." 

Anna arched a brow at him, but turned away with a wave for him to follow. "I have a storage cellar. Come on, you can carry the bolt box." 

Lance obediently lifted the device and followed Anna to her small bedroom where she bent to lift a trapdoor in the corner. He carefully maneuvered down the ladder-stairs and curiously looked around as he waited for her to join him. Although he and the others had been inside Anna's house many times, he'd never known she had a cellar. Soft gem lights illuminated neatly packed foodstuffs—everything from sacks of potatoes stacked against one wall, to shelves lined with cans and jars, to paper wrapped meats hanging from hooks in the ceiling—easily enough for several months' worth of meals. Exposed roots from house above had been shaped to serve as extra shelving and structural support. Then Anna was leading him to the far side of the space and down to the end of a hall to much less organized storage room. 

"How do you find anything in here?" Lance asked as he hefted the communication device onto a shelf Anna cleared for him. 

"By picking up every item, squinting at it, and then moving on," Anna admitted with a wry smile. "I keep meaning to go through this place to clean it out and organize it, but... eh." 

"Can’t say I blame you for finding literally anything else to do," Lance snorted. He eyed what looked like a mini, half-carved wooden idol with knives sticking out all over it. "I'm pretty sure that's voodoo right there. I think I’d have nightmares looking at everything in here." 

Anna rolled her eyes and turned away, though a grin pulled at her lips. "No voodoo, just an ill-planned craft project. I promise the other few rooms aren’t that bad. See? Here's where I keep my weapons and armors..." 

Lance peered over her shoulder when she stepped into the next room over, and nodded approvingly at the neatly displayed bows hanging on racks along all of the walls, all unstrung and guarded by faint wards to prevent any thieves that might get this far from making off with any of them. Several armors were folded in a row on a table against the far wall, with their hardened and reinforced leather pieces resting nearby; underneath that table were some drawers that Lance suspected held repair supplies and tools. A second table held a small assortment of hunting knives and other short blades. The third and final table had several jewelry stands and displays, leaden with enchanted necklaces, bracelets, bangles, anklets, and earrings. A rack just inside the door held some coils of ropes and weighted nets. 

"Very nice. Organized and simple. But, uh, why not keep them in your adventure pouch?" 

Anna shrugged with a sheepish smile and a faint pink rising on her cheeks. "It’s stupid, but I wanted a display room for them. I keep my best gear and a few spares on me of course, but it's not like I need all of these at any given time. Plus, it turns out the adventure pouch needs  really specific instructions before it'll spit out the right stuff if it's holding several similar-looking or similarly-enchanted things. Took me forever to figure out why it kept passing me Poison Ivy when I wanted Nettle Thorn." 

"Fair enough. And you can leave broken or damaged equipment here. You did mention something about some of these needing repairs, right?" 

"Yeah, several of them." Anna stepped forwards to lift one of the bows from its place to show to Lance. 

The arms were beautifully formed from yellow ash wood, reinforced with enchanted gold inlaid with six emeralds above and below the grip, which was made from softened leather braided for handling and comfort. At first glance, it looked to be flawless, but then Anna flipped the bow around and Lance saw a hairline fracture running along the grain of one of the arms. He frowned as he took the bow from her and peered at the crack. The wood practically hummed with powerful holy magic on par with Matt's beloved sword, Heaven's Gate. He shook his head and turned it over in his hands again, admiring the elegant shape and masterful craftsmanship before he passed it back. 

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before. It’s beautiful," he complimented. "But that crack—is that even something that can be fixed?" 

Anna smiled wistfully as she carefully placed the bow back onto the rack. "Possibly? I can shape and enchant a new staff for the bow with fresh wood, but it would have to be perfectly formed to fit the reinforcements, which would take weeks and many, many tries to do; I'd have to get the metal fit on the wood and let it rest until the wood settles each time I made one. And that can only happen after I somehow remove the metal without damaging it and without breaking the enchantment. The grip will probably have to be replaced entirely, but that would be the easiest part." 

"Sounds like a lot of work," Lance mused with a grimace. "Is it worth it? You’ve gotten by without it so far, after all. At least, I’ve never seen you use it. Fenrir's Jaw might not be as powerfully enchanted as it, but as far as light weapons go, it gets the job done." 

Anna feigned a nonchalant shrug and offhandedly said, "You wouldn’t have seen me use it. Forest's Light belonged to my mother, and to her mother before her. I only used it for a few months before it broke, and that was years before I met you and the others. I suppose I'm lucky the wood just fractured instead of shattered." 

Despite the breezy way she said that, she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, and Lance could tell the weapon meant a lot to her. His father hadn't left anything of sentimental value for him, and certainly not a clearly priceless weapon, but he thought he sort of understood the attachment Anna must feel for it, and how much she likely blamed herself for it breaking. He looked back at the gleaming bow with a speculative look, turning over what Anna had said about the repairs. 

"I could help you fix it?" he offered just as Anna had turned away from the armory to continue the tour. He glanced to the side at her surprised look, and brought one hand up to rub the back of his head. "I mean, I have no idea how bows are made, but I'm certain I could separate the metal from the wood without damage—I've done that sort of thing before with other projects. And if I get the arms loose in one piece, I can build a sensor to check if the new bow-staff will fit once you've formed one? Or maybe make a mold and cast of the metal if I can’t get the wood in one piece... That would be easier. Then you could make several batches of bow-staves at once and we could check to see which one will fit. That would save time, right?" 

Anna stared at Lance long enough for him to begin to feel heat rising on his cheeks, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. The fingers of the hand rubbing his head began to curl to grip his hair. Maybe she wanted to do it on her own, as some form of weird atonement? Or maybe the sensor idea was pointless. He had no idea how bow making worked. Maybe the wood warped a little bit once it was fitted or something, and she'd have to use the metal each and every time anyway. He'd just opened his mouth to apologize and retract the offer when Anna's expression melted into a bright smile. 

"That means a lot to me, Lance. I’d love your help if you’re really offering. Thank you." 

Lance's cheeks flushed bright red at the warm sincerity in her voice, and he mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Luckily, she let it go after that and opened the next door. Inside was merely a bunch of furniture, most covered with white sheets, but he could see a bed frame leaned against the far wall beside a tall dark-wood armoire. He stepped inside beside Anna and looked around with a puzzled frown. 

"What's with all the furniture?" 

Anna huffed a sigh with a shrug. "More stuff from my parents. It doesn’t fit upstairs since I've got my own, but it's nice, so I don’t want to just scrap it for firewood, you know? And no one else in Greenwood needs a bed or dresser, so I can't pawn it off on them." 

Lance arched a brow and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Why not just set it up as a second bedroom then? You've already got it all in here after all; you might as well use it, even if you don't need it." 

"You know... that's actually a really good point," Anna replied slowly and with a sheepish laugh. "I never had guests over before meeting you guys, so it never even occurred to me to have a second bedroom. I'll have to really dust this place, and it's pretty cold down here in the winter, but a few heat runes on the floor should be enough to sleep comfortably... I'll have to figure something out for a mattress," she mused more to herself than to him while running an appraising eye across the space and furniture. 

"We could do that after we get the errands done today? I mean, I’m fine with the cot, but since I’m going to be here for a while..." 

"Then you should have a room," Anna finished with a nod. She moved forwards and ran a hand over the carvings on the door of the armoire—an intricate geometric border around a stylized branch of oak leaves. "It'll be good to use this stuff again. My dad hand built and carved most of it." 

"So your dad taught you how to wood work, and your mom taught you hunting?" 

"Kind of," Anna sighed, her fond smiling fading. She shook her head and drew her hand back before quietly admitting, "They both died when I was pretty young, but I certainly learned all the basics from them. Most of the rest of it I taught myself, or picked up from a couple of the other villagers." 

Lance waited quietly, sensing Anna actually wanted to talk about it, even if the topic was painful. And he was curious to learn more about her. He'd guessed her parents were dead after so many years and visits without meeting them, but he had never assumed that it had happened when she was still a child. A quiet, bitter part of him suggested that maybe that was a good thing—parents had never equaled anything positive to him after all—but he rationally knew most kids didn’t have his kind of upbringing. 

"Sarah learned from her mom, and is actually really good at a stalking animals—always has been, though she can’t be bothered to learn how to hunt them. She and her mom taught me a lot about moving silently early on, what beasts look for, and how to avoid them. Old man Tom used to teach all the kids how to build furniture and do whittling until his joints started acting up a couple years back—he's actually my dad's uncle, so he was happy to help me learn some more complicated tricks to keep up the family tradition. The archery and magic were mostly just practice and experience of course." She laughed quietly with a shake of her head. "I was super competitive as a teenager. I wanted to be the best hunter in the village, and bring back the most game every time. I got myself into a lot of messes and close calls, but I learned a lot from them, too." 

"And here you are, years later, a huntress of gods and monsters twenty times your size, and recognized as the best ranger of your time. Guess you made your goal, huh?" Lance concluded with a smirk. 

"Definitely," Anna agreed with a bright smile and another laugh. She turned to leave the room with him close behind her. "Well, let's go to the woodyard and get some more firewood, then see if we can't make it to the market, too. We can clean this room up when we get back." 

An hour and a half later saw them trudging through waist-high snow, burdened down with large bundles of chopped wood. Lance had offered to forge a path for Anna, being quite a bit taller than her, but she cheerfully refused, explaining that it was good exercise. By the time they finally reached her house and stashed most of the wood in a lean-to just outside the door, the ranger was caked in snow up to her waist, and both were shivering and red faced from exertion and cold. 

"Ugh, you do that every week?" Lance grumbled from where he shivered by the fire, waiting for Anna to change in her room, trying to warm up before they headed out to the food court next. 

"Sometimes twice, depending on when I run out of what, and how long the blizzards last," Anna agreed way more cheerfully than he thought she should be. She came back out with her hair tied up and away from her neck, and arched a brow at him still wearing the same cloths, now wet from melted snow. "You can't go back out in those. You'll freeze." 

"It's not that long of a walk to the food court, even in that dratted white mess," Lance argued, still holding his hands out to the fire. "I don’t have an infinite change of clothes here, you know." 

Anna rolled her eyes with a long sigh. "Lance, you know how much faster body heat is leeched away by wet clothing. Maybe you won't  die , but you could easily lose some toes or fingers to frostbite. I have racks you can hang that stuff on, and they'll be dry, or mostly dry, by the time we get back." 

"I don’t want to go back out there," Lance petulantly grumbled. 

"Then wait here, because I’m not letting you come with me in wet clothes anyway," Anna replied with another roll of her eyes. She moved for the door again, and snagged up a second, dry coat and a large hand basket. "I'll be back in a bit. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone." 

"And there goes my plan for a nice, hot bonfire." 

Anna snorted at his dry sarcasm, then slipped out the door, shutting it quickly behind her. As soon as she was alone, her smile softened to something more fond. Whatever had been bugging Lance that morning seemed to have blown over for now. Clearly, company and having a goal to work on were good for him, and she began a mental list of things to involve him in for the few weeks he would be staying with her, from repairs to meal preparations. 

The ranger ducked into the massive fallen log that served as Greenwood’s food storage during the winter. Inside was warm from the animals in the stalls, and it had been a focus for repairs and reinforcements in the weeks before the snows started. A few villagers were also there, clearly restocking their own stores and engaging in a little chatter while they could. 

"Hey, Anna! I see you haven’t decided to wander off and freeze with the slimes, yet!" 

Anna craned her neck and stood on tip toes to see Sarah kneeling by the chicken coop. She moved to join the other woman, and retrieve some eggs of her own. "Hi, Sarah! And no, I’m keeping myself busy. I’ve got company now, anyway." 

"Oh, yeah? Which one of the team wandered in through this weather?" 

"Lance, and I actually called him. He'll be sticking around for the last few weeks." 

" Lance? " Sarah repeated in surprise. "The guy you're endlessly complaining about teasing you? Seriously? Are you feeling okay?" 

Anna spared her friend a mild frown. "He's not  that bad. Besides, his heater is broken at his place, so he needs someplace to stay. And... something's off with him. I don’t know what, but he seems to improve when he's got somebody to talk to and something to focus on or look forward to as a goal. I’m planning on getting his help with all the stuff I’ve let pile up around my place." 

"Like the hoard in the back of your basement?" Sarah suggested with a twitch of her lips. "I think that's been there since you were five." 

"Oh, like your stuff room is any better," Anna shot back before smiling sheepishly. "And I don’t know if we'll tackle that. Lance saw that ill-fated knife block you and I thought would be a great idea, and said it looks like voodoo." 

"Oh, yeah! The idol one that after we put the first slot in it, you said it looked like a murder victim, and we went a little overboard?" 

"That’s the one. We should set it out for the haunting month this year. Spiders are spinning webs between the knife handles, and it really adds to the look," Anna laughed. 

Sarah snorted a laugh. "We were such messed up brats; still are, for that matter. But you’re right that that would be a big hit with the kids. We could make some little charm versions, too." 

"We'll have to have another terrible crafts party soon," Anna agreed. 

As they chatted, the two women selected out a dozen and a half eggs between them before exchanging a brief hug and parting ways. Anna was quick to exchange her empty jar of milk for two new ones, and get another tub of butter. Finally, she managed to snag the last tin of coffee beans available for the day. On her way out the door, she paused by the feed room where one of the villagers in charge of the storehouse and animals was filling a wheelbarrow of clean straw for the stalls. 

"Hey Darren, do you have a minute?" 

The young man straightened from his work and glanced around. He blew some pale brown hair from his eyes and offered her a broad smile and a handshake. "Hi Anna! Staying warm, I hope? What can I do for you?" 

"I’m planning on cleaning up the store room in my cellar with my parents old furniture and turning it into a guest bedroom. Lance is staying over, and suggested it while I was showing him some stuff. I have a cot he's using, but the problem is I don’t have a mattress that'll fit the bed frame in the basement." 

"So you want to stuff a straw tick with some of the bedding we use for the animals, right?" Darren finished with a nod. "I don’t see why not, we always have way more than we need, and I think Susanne might have some spare mattresses in the back. If you bring one back here, I can help you stuff it and carry it back to your place." 

"No, I won’t be able to fit it through the door if it's already stuffed. If we could maybe load some straw up on the sled we use for firewood, then I can stuff the mattress at home. Lance and I can bring the sled back the next clear day," Anna suggested. 

"Sure thing! Let me go get the sled, and you get the tarp and ropes out of the storage room." 

It was the work of minutes between the two of them, and then Anna was hauling the sled back towards her house, rope over one shoulder, back hunched against the weight. It slid easily enough, but it was heavy enough to sink in the snow, which meant she had to break a path using it, and that was exhausting work that didn’t get easier. With an extra huffed pant, she set her feet again, and strained against the rope, only to falter when a pair of gloved hands picked up the dangling slack trailing beside her. 

"...I know you said you weren’t stocked for two people eating, but this is ridiculous. I’m not Matt," Lance drawled. 

Anna quirked a breathless, but no less thankful smile at him. "If I was shopping for Matt's stomach, I’d be dragging a lot more than one sled home." Between the two of them, they began making much faster progress, and much more smoothly. "You didn’t have to come out here again, but I’m glad you did." 

"You were taking a long time," Lance grunted in explanation, then jerked his head back at their load. "Seriously, what’s under the tarp? Are we gutting some deer, or something? Don’t you guys do that ahead of storing meat?" 

"Nah, I only grabbed some more eggs, milk, butter, and coffee. Most of the weight is the sled itself," Anna replied, breathing easier now that she had help with the labor. "I got some straw and an empty mattress to use for the bed frame downstairs. Obviously, we can’t shove a mattress that size through the front door, and never mind past the trap door to the cellar, so it's all loose." 

Lance cast a surprised look Anna’s way. Part of him had been certain she had only offered to fix the room up for his use as a joke. He believed she would eventually turn the space into a guest room, but bringing home a mattress' worth of straw clearly implied she'd moved the task to the top of her mental to-do list. Anna didn’t seem to notice his stare, her eyes fixed on her rapidly approaching house, and tone mild and unconcerned as she continued speaking. 

"-And that shouldn’t take long, which means we should be able to get the bed ready tonight, but the runes take a little more time and effort. One more night in front of the fire shouldn’t kill you, though. At least, it’s less likely to kill you than freezing to death down there would, right? And- Are you even listening to me?" 

Lance blinked twice, and hoped the chilly air could be used to explain away his sudden flush of embarrassment. "Uh, yeah... I don’t mind being on the cot?" he offered with a sheepish grin. 

"...You  weren't listening, were you? Jerk," Anna grumbled, though she bumped his arm with her shoulder as she said it to take any sting out of her words. 

They dropped their lines with the sled right near the front door, and hurried inside to warm up, bringing only the food with them. It was after they'd stashed the food that she spied his previous clothing spread out across his cot in front of the fire. She rolled her eyes with a silent sigh as she moved to retrieve her drying rack and propped it open to re-hang the damp clothes. It didn’t escape her notice that Lance leapt to help with an urgency wholly unlike him, and she hid her frown. 

"Alright, let's get out of these coats, and then we can start on cleaning," Anna announced briskly. She eyed Lance and added, "And don’t keep wearing anything damp. It's cold downstairs. I swear if you don’t, and you get sick, I’m going to say  I told you so once an hour, every hour. All night long, too." 

"Yes, mother," Lance grumbled. 

He was already toeing his wet boots off and peeling off the damp socks beneath. The pants were nearly soaked through, and he muttered uncharitable things under his breath as he peeled them off along with his shirt—the sleeves were damp almost to the elbows. He had just pulled on his third pair of pants for the day when Anna whistled appreciatively from her bedroom door, and he shot her an incredulous look. Her eyes flicked down to his bare chest, and he found himself flushing. Hastily, he cleared his throat and frowned at her, ignoring the flush he could feel rising on his face. 

"Seriously? You hated it when I did that to you. Hell, you about pinned me to a tree when it happened," he pointed out, deadpan. 

"More to keep up appearances with Natz than anything else," Anna airily dismissed. Still, she brought her gaze back up to his, a sly, teasing light in her eyes. "And you of all people can hardly blame me for appreciating a good body. And you have a  very good body." 

Lance spluttered incoherently for several moments under Anna’s growing smile before snorting in amusement. "I’m a terrible influence on you." 

"Hey, no claiming credit for my twisted sense of humor," Anna laughed. She turned away for the cellar, calling back over her shoulder, "Come downstairs once you’re done inspiring fantasies. And wear socks." 

Lance could tell his flush wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, but he still felt a laugh bubbling up as he called back, "Socks on, huh? Not the strangest kink I’ve heard before..." His grin widened at the sound of Anna's muffled laughter echoing back. 

Hurriedly, he dragged a white undershirt on and pulled a pair of thick socks onto his feet before heading to the cellar, still smiling. Anna had somehow already swept the dust out of the room into a neat pile, and Lance arched a surprised brow as he stepped around the corner to see her struggling to lower the bed frame without dropping it. He barely withheld a sigh at her inability to wait even the minute it took for him to come help, and grumbled under his breath even as he stepped forward to take a corner. Anna grinned at him as soon as the frame was down. 

"I’m going to go grab some dust cloths, if you could pull those sheets off the chair and dresser. Don’t worry about shaking them." 

"Yay. Sneezes here I come." 

Anna patted his arm in a mockingly comforting way as she passed him, and ducked out of range of his swat with a laugh. By the time she came back with two soft cloths, a bucket half filled with water, and two hand towels, Lance had removed the dust sheets and left them bundled in a corner. A fine layer of dust covered everything, including him, and he was clearly making a valiant effort to not sneeze. Anna bit her lip to keep from laughing when a series of explosive noises escaped him despite his efforts, and hurried to set her load down at his feet. 

"Stand still until I'm done getting the worst of this stuff gone," she told him. 

Lance sniffed, eyes watering and looking generally irritable and miserable, but remained still. Anna closed her eyes and summoned a wind carefully controlled into an ever narrowing spiral. The miniature and harmless vortex swiftly sucked nearly all the dust off of every surface around the room, including Lance, gathering it all into a single area. Just as gradually as she'd narrowed the wind, she began to let it die, leaving the dust in a manageable clump in the center of the clear space that she briskly swept out to join the rest. 

"Alright, use some of that water to wipe your face off before we get it all gross." 

Lance followed her suggestion, gratefully using one of the hand towels to rub the remaining fine grit from his face, snuffling all the while. "You use wind magic to help you clean?" he asked once he trusted his nose to not become a faucet again. 

"Don’t tell Natalie. She has all these weird ideas that using magic like that is going to make me a mana addict," Anna snorted, bending to retrieve a dust cloth. "I swear, if I hear one more lecture on the dangers of unassisted spell casting, I’m going to dump her body in Lankyroot." 

"Gotta get past her guard dog first," Lance joked, joining her in wiping down the furniture. 

"Eh, Matt's easy enough. Well, probably, anyway," Anna amended. "I've never fought him seriously, of course, but he doesn’t really do well with surprise attacks." 

"As someone who has fought him seriously, let me offer you this wise life advice-" Lance paused dramatically for effect, "-Don't. Matt has the most insane reaction time, even when surprised, and I think he honestly doesn't feel pain when the adrenalin hits. You will never win in straight combat with him, and you won't get close to Natalie while he's still around." 

"So you’re saying poisoning their food is the way to go?" Anna joked. 

"Maybe, but Matt has an iron stomach and liver. And I feel like I should be nipping this conversation in the bud before Natalie somehow hears it and supernovas our asses," Lance mused thoughtfully. 

"But?" Anna pressed with a grin. 

"But I have been  dying to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of our team without sounding like I’m planning to murder you all in your sleep." 

Anna laughed long and loud and Lance smiled sheepishly. Soon they were engrossed in a detailed, somewhat morbid discussion of their team. The longer it went on, the more Lance relaxed, finally feeling like maybe it wasn't  too strange to be constantly judging the exploitable weaknesses of himself and his friends. Anna seemed to agree as they were finishing up, fondly labeling them both professionally paranoid. 

"Now the real question is how do we break it to Matt that he's at his most vulnerable when he's sleeping, and anyone looking to destroy us would seek him out first any time he's separate from us, without sounding like total psychopaths?" Anna thoughtfully mused with a grin. 

"Probably  not by leading into the discussion with how we explored in great detail how we would approach him with the intent to kill," Lance snorted. 

He stretched his arms over his head, spine popping, and sat back on his heels to eye their work. Every wooden surface had been wiped down with the dust cloths, followed by a another swipe with a damp cloth, and the floor had been washed. The water in the bucket had turned an unappealing gray color, and both their faces were smudged with grime and sweat. The results were satisfying, however, with everything looking almost shiny in its cleanness, and no longer smelling musty. 

"We did good work," he noted contently, boosting himself to his feet. 

"We better have, to undo all the evil karma that conversation brought down on us," Anna joked in a sagely tone. She twisted left and then right, popping her own back before sighing. "All that's left now is to stuff the mattress and carve the heat runes into the floor." Her stomach grumbled, and she flushed pink before adding, "But first, lunch. And maybe a bath. Sandwiches work for you?" 

"Sure. What meat?" 

Lance trailed after Anna over to the food storage, hauling their cleaning bucket filled with soggy rags. They trudged upstairs to find the fire had died, leaving the house to grow chilly, and Anna cursed under her breath as she moved to restart it. Lance joined her after tossing the dirty water out the front door, and watched with raised brows as she struggled to manage getting even sparks onto the tinder. 

"You really  are bad at fire magic," he realized with surprise, though he quickly winced at the disgruntled look she shot him, and bent to start the fire for her. "That came out wrong. I just always thought when you complained about having to start the campfires you were... joking, or something. Don’t you have a flint and steel?" 

"Greenwood doesn’t really have any flint in the stone around here, and I loaned the one I bought in Whitefall to Jason's family a couple weeks ago. I didn’t think to stock up on matches since I had the flint at the start of this dratted winter," Anna admitted, unable to meet Lance's eyes as she nudged the logs into a better position to burn for a long time. After a few moments, she added more defensively, "I can usually get a spark or two off eventually, but... fire magic isn’t really my strong suit, no." 

"Well, I guess I can’t imagine the village being big on letting people practice wielding flames in the middle of a forest; your other magics more than make up for not being able to create fire unassisted. It might not be a bad idea to get Natalie to offer you some pointers when we meet up again, though." 

"And set myself up for another lecture? I’ll pass," Anna sighed. "You can grab the first bath while I get lunch started." 

Lance followed her vague gesture to the only other door besides her bedroom and the front door, pausing only to snag a now-dry set of clothes from the rack. Inside was a tiny bathroom with a tub and a toilet. It was clean, had no windows, and the only light was a small crystal fixed to the wall. His brows rose at the ancient looking fixtures, but he supposed he should just count his blessing that at least there was running water in any house in Greenwood, even running water that he's going to have to heat himself with magic. Fifteen minutes later saw him stepping out, toweling his hair dry to the smell of toasted sandwiches. 

"Bath is yours," he announced, a little muffled through the towel. 

Anna grinned at him as she passed, and smiled wider when she found the bath already filled with fresh, heated water. "I may have to keep you," she joked through the door as she slipped into the hot water. 

"Just keep me in basement like some kind of gremlin, only allowed out when you need fire?" Lance asked, amused. "I’d do it, too, for the food." 

He bit into his sandwich and listened to Anna laugh. The sandwich was a burst of tangy flavor from whatever sauce Anna had added, while the bread had been toasted to just the right level of crispiness. The fire crackled behind the grate with cheerful warmth while outside the snow and wind had come again, and he settled on the couch again with a blanket across his lap. The air of the room still held a bit of a chill, but the fire worked quickly to combat it, and the hot food warmed him from within. 

This stay with Anna, he thought with a flash of surprised contentment, was perhaps the best thing to happen to him all year. It had started as a necessity and opportunity when Anna happened to call him while his heater was breaking down. And yet, it had rapidly moved to achieving something he'd promised Amber that he had thought wouldn't happen anytime soon: spending time with his friends outside of battling. At the time he had made the promise, he thought the idea was ridiculous; it seemed unlikely to help at all. And yet... 

"Stare at the sandwich any longer, and I'll start thinking you’ve learned how to eat without actually eating." 

Lance blinked at Anna's sudden playful observation. She had changed into a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized sweater. A folded towel rested around her shoulders to protect her clothes from her hair still damp from her bath. The strands were a darker green from the water, and shone dully in the light, pulled straight down her back. Her skin was still a bit pink from heat and being scrubbed. She had a crooked grin directed at him, and her eyes glittered with mischief and amusement. 

Inexplicably, Lance felt his cheeks heat, and he tore his eyes away and cleared his throat before taking a huge bite of his food. Anna chuckled as she continued past for the kitchen where she retrieved a cup of water before coming back to toss a fresh log on the fire and then joining him on the couch. She slouched down with a long, content sigh, feet stretched for the fire and toes wiggling as she relaxed. By this point, Lance had finished his food and gotten his blush under control, and he copied Anna’s reclined position. For a long time, neither one spoke or moved, listening to the cozy crackling of the flames and the wild howl of the storm. 

"Guess we can’t stuff the mattress until the storm dies again," Anna eventually mused through a yawn. She shuffled a little closer and reached over to clumsily drag part of Lance's blanket across her own lap before settling down again. "Looks like you’re stuck on the cot for a couple nights still. Sorry." 

Lance had leaned his head back with his eyes closed, and hadn’t twitched at her movement. "It's fine. I wasn’t expecting a real bed when I invited myself over anyway," he hummed. 

"I guess. That cot mattress is pretty thin and lumpy, though." 

"Still softer than the tent on a cave floor." 

"Touché." 

Companionable silence fell again, and after a half hour, Lance nearly drifted off into a nap. Then, Anna stretched and stood up, abandoning the blanket and he cracked one eye open to watch as she began pulling her clothes off of the drying rack. He shut his eye again and shuffled around to prop himself at a slight angle against the arm of the sofa. Soft rustles and the padding of bare feet signaled Anna folding her clothes and hanging her winter gear back where it belonged by the door. Then he heard a rattle followed by a curious noise from Anna and then a sharp inhale. 

Lance opened his eyes and sat up with an arched brow to see Anna standing with his jacket in one hand and a very familiar small container filled with tiny white pills. Lance's heart skipped a beat before racing, and he swallowed as he brought his eyes up to see Anna staring between him and the container with a disappointed frown and a concerned gleam in her eyes. Her fingers curled around the bottle and she turned to face him. Lance darted a look at the door beyond which a deadly blizzard howled. Trapped. 

"What are these?" she asked, quiet and tense. Her grip on the bottle tightened when Lance refused to meet her eyes. Her voice rose some upset when he didn’t reply. "Lance, I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous drugs are. What the hell were you thinking?!" 

"They’re not drugs," Lance snapped defensively. "Or they are, actually, but I swear it’s not what you think!" 

"I didn’t fall off the wagon yesterday, Lance! How long have you been taking these?" Anna demanded, brandishing the bottle, pills sharply rattling within. 

"Only a few months," Lance sullenly promised, eyes now trained on his lap. "And they aren’t some stupid narcotic—I wouldn’t do that!" 

"Is this what Natalie and Matt were worried about? I thought you said you were fine!" 

"Damnit it, Anna, they’re anti-depressants," Lance shouted, shooting to his feet. He glared at Anna as her worried anger faltered, and reached over to snatch the pills from her slack grip. "I got them from a legitimate source, and I'm taking them as she prescribed. I’m not addicted, or drugging it up, or whatever other stupid idea you’ve got in your head." 

Anna's empty hand fell limp at her side. "Oh. I- I'm sorry. I-" 

"It's fine," Lance muttered even though he felt it was anything but. 

He briefly glanced towards the door again and wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be too dangerous to try and make the straight line to the warp stone and back to the safe isolation of his factory, broken heat or not. Anna seemed to read his thoughts because she quickly moved to plant herself between him and the door. Lance stared down her wide-eyed look of apology and remorse for a long second before he turned his head and stiffly sat back down. After a long, awkward silence, Anna moved to join him again. 

"So..." she began awkwardly, "...Anti-depressants, huh?" 

"Would you rather it was some street drug?" Lance asked bitterly. 

"No, of course not! Well, mostly not. Street drug addiction sucks, but can be broken pretty quickly. This... It... Depression takes longer to fix. A lot longer. I just- I guess it shouldn’t be such a shock, looking back at some of the stuff you’ve said and done in the past. And you’ve been off since you got here." 

Lance winced and his grip painfully tightened around the traitorous bottle. "It’s not like I want it." 

"I didn’t say you did," Anna promised quietly. "But I am glad you’re doing something about it. I reacted badly, and I’m sorry. I should have trusted you." 

"I can’t blame you for leaping to conclusions. As a ranger, you track drug rings all the time, and anyone can fall into... that trap." 

"Is it... Can I help at all?" Anna hesitantly asked. 

Lance pursed his lips with a brief glance at Anna's earnest expression before his eyes darted away. Amber had said he should try speaking more honestly and openly with his friends. She would fall over in shock when she heard about all the steps he’d taken this winter—unintentionally forced or not. 

"You already are," he admitted uncomfortably. "I just... I needed a friend, and you reached out to offer that when you called me. It's been... really nice... staying here with you."


End file.
